


Spring Fever

by sister_coyote



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Crack, F/M, Genderfuck, Genderswap, OrgXIII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-17
Updated: 2006-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_coyote/pseuds/sister_coyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demyx wasn't quite quick enough in figuring out what felt weird about the water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tiresias' Spring

It happened entirely by accident. The first time, anyway. In one of the worlds, there was a wood, and in that wood, there was a spring, and when Xigbar stopped to get a drink from that spring, Demyx wasn't paying enough attention to notice the problem quickly enough.

(If you considered it a _problem_, per se.)

"Wait," he said, "there's something funny—" and trailed off as Xigbar swallowed. ". . . about that water," he finished lamely.

"What?" Xigbar asked, in a voice perhaps half an octave higher than normal, and somewhat softer around the edges. "Poison?"

"Um." Demyx said. "No. Not . . . quite." He was staring at the fit of Xigbar's cloak, which had changed somewhat. Um.

"Huh," Xigbar said. "I do feel a little . . . ." He frowned, then pulled the neckline of his robe out so he could peer inside.

There was an awkward pause.

"Oh," he said.

It was interesting, Demyx thought, swallowing hard. He was still lean, still scarred, still missing an eye, still with long silver-streaked black hair—still all the things that Demyx found particularly _attractive_. But he was, well, built somewhat . . . differently. His cloak had always been cut close to his long, lean body, and now it was even closer, and strained out in . . . places. He was torn between the almost irresistible desire to stare at Xigbar's modest-but-definitely-bigger chest and hips, and the desire to stare almost anywhere else for fear that Xigbar would take offense and kick his ass.

(_I bet he—she—he has great legs under there_, commented the part of his brain that was trying to get him shot. _I mean, he has nice long legs as a guy . . . _)

"If I drink again, will it change me back?" Xigbar was asking.

Demyx concentrated on the water. "I think so. I'm pretty sure. Yes."

"Then no harm done."

Demyx could feel his face heating up, but he knew he'd hate himself forever if he didn't at least try. "Uh—"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Do you have to, uh, change back _right_ away?"

Xigbar's all-too-familiar grin made his knees weak. ". . . I guess I don't."


	2. Spring Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xigbar would try anything once.

"Uh, how are we going to—"

"You've done this before," Xigbar said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah—I mean, my Other did—but, it, um." He was pretty sure he'd been crazy about the (very few, honestly—just two) girls he'd been with, when he'd had a heart, but that was a while ago, in another life. And, also—while they were both wonderful, neither of them had also been _terrifying_ in the way that Xigbar was. One of them had smacked him once, for something he couldn't really remember well anymore, but none of them would have easily been able to suspend him upside-down and take potshots at him if he pissed them off.

Not that he _really_ thought Xigbar would, either, but—

"You're the one who suggested this," Xigbar said, resting one hand on the (long sleek curve of his) hip (oh god). "Changed your mind?" He folded his arms under his breasts. (His breasts? Her breasts? His breasts. Physical . . . changes . . . notwithstanding, Demyx was just not going to be able to think of Xigbar as 'she.') Was he doing that on _purpose_?

. . . Probably.

Demyx wasn't that scared, though. He wasn't so scared he didn't want to see (and touch, and lots of other stuff) what was under that robe. "No," he said. "No, I haven't changed my mind."

"You wanna—?"

"Yeah. Yes. I just thought maybe you —"

"What, haven't you ever been curious?"

"Well. Yes."

"Then c'mere, and stop looking like you think I'm going to bite your head off. It's still _me_."

They were both pretty adept at getting the robes off by now, even with Xigbar's breasts straining the fabric. Once cloth was out of the way, Demyx said, "Oh."

Xigbar gave them a considering look, and cupped one breast in the palm of his hand, which was almost too much. They weren't especially large—huge breasts would have looked pretty weird on Xigbar's narrow frame—but they weren't small, either. He reached out, hesitated, saw the amused look glittering in Xigbar's eye, and went ahead and stroked the other breast with the tips of his fingers.

"Mmm," Xigbar said, half a growl, transmuted by the changes in his voice.

"Yeah?" Demyx asked, his mouth going dry. Xigbar's breast was . . . was firm but soft, soft-skinned, and his nipple—Demyx circled his fingertips around the nipple and drew a hitched breath from Xigbar.

"Yeah," Xigbar said. "Definitely yeah."

Demyx let his fingertips circle absently, then, feeling daring, let his fingers slid down over Xigbar's stomach and leaned in to lick one of Xigbar's nipples. Xigbar made a soft, hoarse sound. Demyx's fingers wandered lower as his tongue coaxed Xigbar's nipple to hardness—this, at least, was more or less familiar, even if the shape of the breast was different—until his fingertips touched hair.

"Go ahead." Xigbar sounded amused. "Trust me, I'll stop you if I don't like it."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Xigbar's laugh was sharp. "I won't break your wrist as a first warning, I promise."

Demyx rolled his eyes but slid his fingers farther down, and, oh god, Xigbar was _wet_. Xigbar was slick and hot to the touch, and said, "Oh, that's _interesting_."

"Interesting?"

"Yeah, it's—I dunno if I can describe it. Keep going."

"Um, it'd be easier if I could—"

"Right," Xigbar said, and, without warning, dragged him down to the ground. Demyx kept stroking until he found a spot that made Xigbar tense up and really moan. He kept rubbing there, just there, drunk on the sound, and then they were both shedding cloaks and boots and gloves in a tangle.

The little voice of Demyx's libido had been right: Xigbar had really gorgeous legs as a woman. Gorgeous long legs. Gorgeous long slim muscular legs, and smoothly curved hips, and soft dark hair and a lean narrow waist and then his gaze hit Xigbar's breasts again, the nipples dusky and hard and still wet from the attention he'd given them, and then he looked at Xigbar's face which was still mostly _Xigbar's_ face, because the wicked one-eyed golden gaze was still there, and the scars, even though his cheeks were maybe a little bit less hollow and his mouth definitely a little bit fuller, and . . .

. . . and the smirk was the _same_, and he realized his mouth was hanging open, and Xigbar said, lasciviously, "Wanna give it a go?"

"Yes," he said helplessly. "Yes, definitely, yes." Xigbar laughed, a long vibrant chuckle, and reached out with arms still long and muscular to reel him down.

And he was on top, but Xigbar was definitely at least as much in control of this as he was. His long legs wrapped around Demyx's hips, and Demyx felt his cock settle against Xigbar's slick lips, and groaned. He opened his mouth to say 'I don't want to hurt you,' but the idea of him being able to hurt Xigbar was almost laughable, so instead he said, "Ready?"

"Yeah," Xigbar said, and he _grinned_, fierce and hungry and laughing, and reached down to line Demyx up, so he could just push forward and slide in.

And it was easy, it was easy, slick and hot, tight but opening up for him so smoothly. It felt so incredibly _good_, almost effortlessly good with Xigbar rocking a little against him and wet heat flexing around him that he wanted to say something but it was too much and he couldn't speak. His tongue wasn't working right. Xigbar hissed a little bit right at first but as soon as Demyx looked up at him he was grinning again, wicked, conspiratorial . . . delighted, like he was getting _away_ with something, like he was cheating like a bastard and loving every minute of it, and Demyx said, "Oh, _fuck_," even though it was usually Xigbar who swore.

"Yeah, exactly," Xigbar breathed. Demyx could see a flush starting high on his cheekbones. Xigbar arched and thrust against him and he gasped and moaned into his neck. "Don't worry so much," Xigbar said, a little breathless and rough with pleasure and amusement, "I don't break easy."

And Demyx decided 'oh, hell, why not?' and started to thrust a little harder. Xigbar's head rolled back, and his eyes fluttered shut. His legs tightened around Demyx's waist and one hand in Demyx's hair, and he said, "Fuck, _fuck_, that feels—"

"Yeah?" Demyx had lost his ability to speak in anything but idiotic monosyllables, and hoped Xigbar would read from his voice how _unbelievable_ it all felt, too much, like he was boiling from the inside out, incandescent and transmuting to steam.

"Yeah," Xigbar said. "God. Yes. There, a little—harder, like that, yes," he said, and then arched and _screamed_, and Demyx was glad he'd brought him close before they started because he wasn't going to last at all with Xigbar trembling and flexing around him, and in fact he lasted almost no time at all.

And then somehow he was resting with his cheek against Xigbar's breasts, and Xigbar was laughing again, his familiar rough laugh. "Comfortable?"

"Mmmn," Demyx said. Some more time passed, marked only by the cooling of sweat on his skin. Dreamily, he asked, "What does it feel like?"

Xigbar didn't say anything for a little while, and then he laughed again. "I don't think I can describe it." Demyx could hear the leer in his voice when he added, "You'll just have to take a drink and find out yourself."

"Maybe I will," he said.


End file.
